Here Kitty, Kitty
((Thanks to @hameowlton I was struck by the need to write Hamburr with cats.))
Alex almost drops his coffee. He doesn’t, because he is a professional dammit and therefore the hot drink is practically glued to his hand, but it almost happens.
He looks up from his desk, casting his eyes around the large room they’ve taken over in case one of the volunteers had stayed after and he simply hadn’t noticed.
But no. The campaign headquarters is deserted. Even the light in Washington’s office is off, meaning Martha has finally managed to talk her husband into going home.
There’s only one person who’s made the regular habit of staying as late in the office as Alex. Which means there can only be one person responsible for that little scream he’d just heard.